Eastern Ethics

I, the author of this document, am in fact a man of the East, knowing full well how hilarious the use of the word "ethic" is in regards to Miruvhor. I write almost facetiously, and for no benefit to you at all, you sorry, potato-like reader.

It is humorous that Miruvhor's lumping in with the Tribune empire has not in fact introduced any sort of real ethic to the city, which is now rife with poverty. At least, it does so pale compared to its state of previous millennia. O', fool, you must think of a different sort of poverty than what I just meant! Let us not forget: Rheydin suffered, Val Miran suffered, but Miruvhor has only ever grown. Please, let us be serious for once. Poverty of ethic is splendid, which is verified by history.

The violence of Miruvhor behaves on, O', such another level. With due respect to the judges of deity, this sort of corruption cannot be weeded out. It is the spirit of Decobru working his darkness, and Dypreties is never so bright as it is when setting over the Dragon Sea. Gold flows in the veins and beats in the heart, and if you think it unpopular elsewhere, contemplate a while on the banking nightmare caused by the allegedly generous Anamus who spent thousands of tons of gold, which no doubt have found their ways into Syndicate pockets, just to build a statue of himself. Woe to those citizens who face generation after generation of debt.

Decobrian pronouncement faded with the vomit-like arithmetic of Xebonn's flimsy reign, but at least he reasoned wisely in one way by serving himself before he served others. Before the nonsense of necessary Order, Miruvhians simply excessed themselves on decadent novelties from overseas. Rich velvet, fanciful ink, ravaging drinks. The most exquisite and enduring women, too. The Decobrian Kings, ever salacious, hosted their feasts, committed their orgies, and burned their worthless babes on the flame altars of sacrifice.

What? You thought that Damnil, the great prophet, had not seen his share of depravity? Where then was he in the East? Just Caranduin, a joke! It is ludicrous to think that pleasure, comfort, and security lead those Pre-Cataclysmites to the now assumed "Utopia" laced into our history books. Do not make me laugh! Two-City Exclusivists have no understanding of anything whatsoever! What nomadic people would settle a port city pinched between General Virigoth's shoreline landing point and the fresh desert craters of the Triad's strike? No one! Of course Miruvhor existed before the Cataclysm, a grey ooze could deduce this!

When all the males of Lloth were still sniveling under the barbed heels of their matrons, and the Duergars in the bowels of the West were torturing and cross breeding monsters, the moons were going into alignment to defeat a powerful foe, broad and wide. We were neither redeemed nor punished, but only so close to the enemy lines that fear was finally instilled.

See then how I marvel at the Maxim and its capacity to give us weak, lusty people context. How it illuminates crime and gives it its allure. As the people of the East continue to rape, murder, brawl drunkenly, sell drugs, pirate, launder, throw their infants into the sewers, raid, and fornicate, ever more will the issue of the heart slip through the fingers of our now aged Empire. How I love their priority!

These doors open wider in our present day, inch by inch, and the inner magnetism of the people of the East gradually grows stronger. I mentioned ethics, hadn't I? Before it was survival. Now it is pleasure. Endless, wanton pleasure.

BOEQ